


Take A Break

by GreyLiliy



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23675299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: Elita is overworked–again–and Chromia decided they needed to take a break so Elita can do something nice for herself. If Chromia benefits too, well, that’s just an added benefit.
Relationships: Chromia/Elita One
Kudos: 2





	Take A Break

**Author's Note:**

> [First posted to Tumblr on May 1, 2014 as “TF - Take A Break.” Crossposted to Archive of Our Own on April 15, 2020. Original notes have been kept.]
> 
> Rodimus stuff made me upset, so I needed fluff to counteract. This is fluff. Lady fluff. Chromia and Elita One and things that make me happy. Boom. Right here.

Elita rubbed her arm with the base of her thumb, smearing the charcoal colored residue from her training session. Catching rockets and throwing them back had the regretful side-effect of leaving behind scorch marks. Elita would have to get better at missing the thruster when she flipped it around.

But Elita could clean that off later; she had work to do.

“Let’s see,” Elita said, pulling up the map of the area around their underground base. She pulled up her notes, and vented softly. They’d explored the wreckage full circle up to the edge of Shockwave’s base territory but hadn’t come up with much to show for it. “Nothing there, or there. Or there. Where haven’t we checked?”

If she and her team weren’t able to find left over resources from the previously populated areas prior to the Arc’s departure, Elita would have to start increasing their raids on Shockwave’s tower.

She rubbed her face, and sighed heavily into her hands. Shockwave considered them an annoyance at the moment, but if they kept this up he might genuinely start hunting them all down.

Something Elita did not have the resources to handle.

“You look like you need a break,” Chromia said, rapping the back of her knuckle against the side of Elita’s head. She held her data-pad with one hand, slouched in her chair with her legs spread apart. “We should take one.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking at progress reports?” Elita said, pulling her hands down so that her fingertips touched her lips. She slid them forward, pressing her hands together and rubbing one thumb with the other. “Not watching me?”

“I can do both,” Chromia said, sitting up. Her optics glanced over Elita’s face, focused on something before blinking it away. Chromia continued with a cheeky grin, “I’m resourceful that way.”

“You are,” Elita said. She reached over and pat Chromia on the knee like a turbo-pup. “That’s why you’re Second-in-Command.”

“Don’t call me that,” Chromia huffed, rolling her optics. She crossed one leg over the other, and leaned back in her seat. She tapped her data pad against her thigh. “You make me sound like Starscream.”

“Well, that is his technical position in the Decepticon Army,” Elita said. She returned to her maps, and started looking through location notes. “It’s not my fault you share the same position.”

“You are getting much better at dodging the subject, I’ll give you props,” Chromia said, tossing her data pad up on the control counter. “But we’re taking a break. No work, no training. Just you and me doing something relaxing, fun, or both.”

“Like what?” Elita said, threading her fingers together. “At this point in our lives, everything is work and training, I should think. Being prepared for anything, and all that.”

“Break, you and me. And I know the perfect thing for us to do.” Chromia leaned over and tapped Elita on the nose. “We’re going to do your make-up.”

Elita’s optics widened, and she touched her lips against her will. Her fingers brushed against the web-like fractures of cracking paint and moved up her cheek to where she knew the polished metal had lost its shine.

Elita shook her head, and turned back to the monitor. “We don’t have time for that Chromia, but maybe we could get a drink instead.”

“No, I think this is what you need,” Chromia said. She stood up and tugged lightly on Elita’s arm. “Come on, I’m sure your kit isn’t covered in that much dust. I’ll bet that ‘petal pink’ of yours is as bright as ever, and I promise not to smudge it.”

“But Chromia, you hate make-up, let alone applying it, ” Elita answered, smiling against her desperate attempts to remain pouting. She crossed her ankles and sat up straighter in her seat. Elita tilted her head up, and tapped a finger against her lips. “Even you only wear it because you’re weak to Moonracer’s pouting, and didn’t have the heart to scold her when she painted your face during recharge.”

“Yeah,” Chromia said, rubbing the bottom edge of her lip. She chipped off a tiny flake of paint, and bit the spot to make it worse. Chromia stuck her hands on her hips, shoulders back. “But you like it, and you like how you look in it, and I think it might cheer you up to get rid of all those little chips and crack lines that have been driving you crazy.”

“I think I have more important things to worry about, Chromia,” Elita said, optics glancing down, “than whether or not my make-up is chipped.”

“But you do,” Chromia said, squatting down. She crossed her arms on Elita’s knees, and rested her chin there. She glanced up with puppy dog eyes that would have given Bluestreak a run for his money. “It bothers you, and you’re too concerned about us to take time to fix yourself up.”

“As it should be,” Elita said. “You know that.”

“I do,” Chromia said. She pushed forward, wrapping her arms around Elita’s waist and stood. She dragged Elita up with her, and set them both on their feet. She bumped their noses together and said, “which is why I’m going to fix you up.”

“You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?” Elita asked, whispering against Chromia’s lips.

“Worse than Ironhide,” Chromia said, pressing their lips together in a butterfly kiss. “Besides, maybe I hate make up on me, but I rather like how it looks on you.”

“You’re horrible,” Elita grinned, kissing her back with a little more pressure. “But if you’re going to be stubborn as Ironhide, I might as well let you have your way. A good leader should choose her battles wisely.”

“Alpha Trion would be proud,” Chromia said. She kissed Elita again, roughly and hard enough to press them both into the back of the console. Chromia’s hands wormed their way to Elita’s waist, and she pulled them both flush together. She nipped and tugged, and Elita could feel their bodies heat with the sudden burst of energy. “Proud as I am.”

“What’re you doing?” Elita asked, arms around Chromia’s shoulders and squeezing. She poked a smudge of pink paint on Chromia’s lips. “I thought you were going to do my make-up?”

“I am, but,” Chromia smashed her lips against Elita’s and scraped them hard together. She backed away, licking the edge of her lip. “I’ve got to get all the old paint off first, don’t I?”

“Horrible,” Elita laughed, leaning on Chromia. She rubbed her thumb against her lip and flicked off a bit of blue paint. “Absolutely horrible. Maybe I should call you 'Starscream.’ Undermining me with devious plots and promises of good things when you just wanted a little something.”

“Guilty,” Chromia said. She kissed Elita softer, lingering for a moment. Her lips brushed Elita’s with a feather touch as she spoke. “But I really will fix you up all nice and pretty aftewards. Petal pink, and everything. I promise.”

“Good,” Elita said. She hugged Chromia and leaned there with her face on the taller woman’s shoulder. “But if you smudge a single drop of paint out of place, I reserve the right to make you redo it.”

“As long as I get to take it off the same way over and over,” Chromia said, kissing Elita’s helm and squeezing. “I can work with that.”

“Deal,” Elita said, flipping off the computer monitor behind her.


End file.
